


A Day Together

by junko



Series: Scatter and Howl [64]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 19:06:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12195861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: The morning of the anniversary of Hisana's death starts out rough.





	A Day Together

Inuzuri instincts had Renji’s eyes snapping open. He’d already grabbed for and caught… something. Rapidly blinking away the sleepy blur, he was finally able parse the scene in front of him. His fist was wrapped around silk, the silk of Byakuya’s fingerless gloves. Byakuya’s fingers trailed in the air, millimeters above Renji’s nipple.

Oh. Oh, shit. Byakuya had been maybe looking for a little wake-up sex?

Renji let go in a hurry. He glanced up at where Byakuya perched on the side of the bed. The captain was fully-dressed in his uniform, his hair tidily pulled back in that new not-the-kenseikan-thing. His face was it’s usual impassive mask, with those long, dark lashes downcast, almost closed. The way he rubbed at his bruised wrist, however, made Renji think Byakuya was a little… miffed? Frustrated? Startled?

“Sorry, Taicho,” Renji said, pulling himself up into a seated position. He could see how he might have been a tempting target, all naked and completely splayed out. Pulling his legs together guiltily, he said, “Uh, sometimes I’m still a light sleeper.”

“So I see.” Byakuya let his hands fall to his lap. Turning his face away, he glanced toward the open doorway that led to the balcony. The scent of plum blossoms hung heavily, almost cloyingly so, in the air. 

Renji waited, tension building in his gut like a knot. 

Letting out a breath, Byakuya turned back, his gaze rising to meet Renji’s. “I was thinking of taking a walk this morning. Would you join me?”

“Did I… fuck up an opportunity for sex?”

“Renji, I’m fully dressed,” Byakuya noted, a small smile playing on his lips. 

“And that’s a deal breaker nowadays?”

Renji had meant that as a joke, but something nearly imperceptible shifted in Byakuya’s expression. He turned away again, staring out at the crisply bright blue, cloudless sky. In a serious tone, he said, “It’s just as well. How would it be to spend the day at Hisana’s grave smelling of your sex?”

_Kinda awkward? Though, is it bad, that it also seems like ‘winning’?_

Using the excuse of hunting around for his clothes, Renji stayed silent on the matter. He was never entirely sure what he was supposed to feel about Byakuya’s continued devotion to Hisana. In a way, it was one of the things that was deeply admirable about the guy. He was a perfect husband. His love for her never died. In another, Renji couldn’t help but feel her presence, like a wedge, between them. Here it was, the morning after being called ‘soulmate’ in front of everyone, and the long-dead wife cockblocked like a pro.

Ah, that was unfair.

Renji shrugged into his shitagi. “When are you headed out to the gravesite?” he asked, tying up the undershirt. “You…. going it alone, or… I dunno, you want some company?”

Byakuya glanced over his shoulder, but said nothing.

Wrong thing to ask? Yeah, no, of course, it was rude to assume Byakuya wouldn’t want some me-time with the memory of his beloved wife. He probably talked to her grave, and all that personal stuff. Jeez, Renji was batting Oh-for-a-Thousand this morning. Finding his hakama in a pile beside the bed, Renji stepped into them. “I guess it’s a private thing, eh? It’s cool. I just thought--”

“Your company would be appreciated,” Byakuya said. “I’m only surprised at the offer.”

Renji shrugged. He wasn’t offering for Hisana’s sake. “I figure it’s gonna be a rough day, is all. You might not want to be alone.”

Byakuya blinked. His fisted hand rose to his lips, like he was biting back a strong emotional response. Renji could feel a wave of reiatsu surging. Pausing in the middle of tying his obi, Renji held his breath expectantly, but the spiritual pressure was no threat. In fact, it was a rush of warmth, gratitude.

With visible effort, Byakuya pulled himself back together. He raised his head stiffly and took in a deep, calming breath. “Always, I have been alone in my grief… and that was always, always the very last thing I wanted.”

Here was the part where, with any other person in the entire Soul Society, Renji would close the distance in a leap and wrap them up in a giant bearhug. In fact, Renji had taken a step forward before he stopped himself. Instead, he pulled back and, closing his eyes, focused on his own spiritual energy. Zabimaru had taught him that trick of imagining Hihiō’s coils wrapping tightly around Byakuya, the same way Renji would protect himself in a fight. Given how sleepy he was, Renji was pretty sure the effort was a little sloppy and wobbly, but the surprised, happy gasp from Byakuya let him know he’d done it well enough to be felt. 

“Oh, Renji,” he heard Byakuya sigh quietly. Then, pulling himself to his feet, Byakuya turned around, his face back to its controlled mask. “That walk? Shall we see if there is decent tea to be found in the Sixth Division’s neighborhood?”

Renji smiled. “Babe, this is *your* neighborhood. What do you think? The best teamongers in the Seireitei fight to rent storefronts here.” Renji left off his personal opinion that it was because this was the only Division that would tolerate such blatant overpricing in the name of “quality,” and, if he ever needed street tea, he headed for the Eleventh, where it flowed strong and dirt cheap. It sort of tasted like dirt, too, but it did the trick, and didn’t cost an arm and a leg.

Byakuya adjusted his haori smartly. “Well then, I should think it’s time to inspect them all to make sure they pass muster.”

Thinking of the steep prices, Renji muttered, “Right, let me just grab some cash.”

“Don’t be foolish, I’ll buy,” Byakuya said. “After all, you may need some strong fortification given how boring you will likely find the ohaka mairi.”

#

They went out the side gate after assuring Eishirō that they would be back to the estate in time to pick up the picnic lunch he’d have prepared for their pilgrimage to the gravesite. 

As they stepped out onto the cobblestone street, Renji asked, “Did I just put him out? I mean, I got the sense Eishirō already had something ready for just you, and now all of a sudden I’m coming along--”

Byakuya shook his head. “Eishirō would fuss no matter what.”

There was that.

Shopkeepers along the street opened their shutters, but the early morning bustle was hushed, as though the Seireitei as a whole was yawning itself awake. Many of the residents around the Sixth had chosen to plant cherry trees in honor of Senbonzakura, and so juts of branches arched over the streets, covered in tiny pink buds. Looking at them all, Renji wondered what they would do if--god forbid--Renji, or anyone else for that matter, ever took the captaincy of the Sixth. 

If he somehow survived, Renji thought maybe he’d be so heartbroken that he’d order them all chopped down. But, looking at their grace and beauty now, he knew he’d never have the heart. Besides, they added a touch of elegance and class. So many trees made the Sixth a desirable neighborhood for all sorts of trades. 

“Do you have a favorite place?” Byakuya asked after they’d walked a while. 

Renji snorted a little laugh. They were walking side-by-side, close enough to hold hands, but Renji had clasped his behind his back to hold back the impulse to tuck Byakuya’s arm under his own. “You know me, Taicho. I’d drink anything strong.” Thinking about it, Renji added, “But, I hear good things about ‘A Spot of Tea.’”

“What kind of name is that for a tea shop?” Byakuya sounded personally affronted. 

“It’s supposed to be hip.” When Byakuya stared at him blankly, Renji added, “You know, cool. Something the kids would be into.”

“And is it?”

“I dunno,” Renji admitted. Since moving up to the estate, he hadn’t really explored a lot of the tea shops in the Division’s neighborhood. He couldn’t imagine getting better tea on the streets than he could in the bedroom of the twenty-eighth Kuchiki clan head. “We could try it, if you’re feeling adventurous? I hear they import black tea from the Human World. Word is, Lieutenant Sasakibe makes ‘The Spot’ a regular hangout.”

Byakuya pursed his lips as though trying to decide if that was a recommendation or condemnation. With a little shrug, he said, “I suppose the real question is if Aizen would have liked it.”

“Heh, well, I think he would have,” Renji said. “The other thing I’ve heard is that Captain Hirako stopped by for a fresh brew before heading to Muken to taunt Aizen.”

Byakuya’s thin, perfectly-shaped eyebrows rose slightly at that. “Very well, let us investigate this ‘Spot of Tea.’”

It took Renji a little while to remember exactly how to get there, especially since he was piecing it together from a bunch of half-remembered stories about the place, but they arrived at the doorstep in under fifteen minutes. 

There was already a queue.

“Huh,” Renji said, looking at the long line snaking out from the door down half a block. “I guess it really is all that.” As he watched, several people came out and the line shuffled forward en masse. “Well, at least it’s moving.”

Byakuya frowned slightly. “I was hoping to sit in.”

Renji nodded. There was an easy way to budge this line. “I got this, Taicho. Wait here a second.”

Leaving Byakuya beneath a cherry tree, Renji made his way across the road. He shouldered his way in past the crowd, confident despite their angry glares. He kept his face in full-lieutenant mode when he got to the maître’d. “Your boss around?”

As Renji hoped, the maître’d looked a little nervous. “Is there a problem, Lieutenant Abarai?”

“Just get your boss out here.”

Swallowing nervously, the maître’d dashed behind the faded, olive-green curtain that had a large, stylized Kanji character for tea painted in black. As he waited, Renji could hear the people behind him whispering. Someone wondered if there’d been a robbery, another seemed worried that this might be related to the Kuchiki clan war. He wanted to turn around and reassure them all that he was just using Byakuya’s status as clan head to get them a good table, but then they’d all probably kill him.

The manager, a youngish black woman with long, thick dreadlocks that fell to her waist came out from between the curtains, looking vaguely annoyed at having been interrupted. She wore a stained engineer apron that reminded Renji of Tessai, in fact the woman’s bare arms were hard with muscles. She sketched a quick bow, “I’m Erikia Gakusha, the owner. What’s going on, Lieutenant?”

“Captain Kuchiki is outside,” Renji jerked his thumb in the direction across the street. “You know he has the authority to grant the Kuchiki warrant to any business, right?” Renji watched the light dawn in her eyes. To get the official Kuchiki seal of approval on her tea shop could mean a lot of extra business, including, potentially, access to his personal suppliers. When she gave him an expectant blink, he explained: “He wants a table for two.”

“Oh,” she nodded briskly. “Right. Uh… can he wait a couple of minutes? We could set him up in the garden.”

Renji nodded. “That would be perfect.”

#

“We are here under false pretenses,” Byakuya said, though Renji could sense a hint of amusement in his otherwise flat tone. 

“We are,” Renji agreed, lifting his tea bowl in a little salute.

The garden behind the tea shop was obviously normally used for patio seating once the weather was warmer. Though the space was narrow, a paved section encircled a water fountain feature, still covered and turned off. The paving stones could use sweeping, as drifts of last autumn’s curled leaves scattered around the edges. The heads had dropped off the camellia, leaving behind shiny, waxy clumps of leaves, but pale lavender fringed irises were beginning to open. The simple, cheerful blooms of the creeping lettuce, rose on thin stalks that seemed to have split open the ground. It was a jumbled mess at the moment, but Renji could see how it would be lovely later in the spring, once the shopkeeper had a chance to have it attended to.

Byakuya sipped the steaming bowl of tea cautiously. “I’m uncertain I could grant the warrant.”

“I only told her you might,” Renji said slyly. But, then he looked at his own bowl, “It’s not good? It tastes amazing to me.”

“It’s good,” Byakuya nodded. “But that’s all it is. It is not, in my opinion, outstanding.”

“Oh,” Renji said, a little disappointed. “Well, I think the shopkeeper said she was going to brew a bunch of small batches for you to try. Maybe you’ll like another one better.”

Byakuya made an agreeing sound.

They sipped their tea in the relative quiet of the sheltered garden. Sparrows flitted overhead, gathering dried grass for nests. Renji let out a long sigh. Rukia had been right about this place, all those decades ago. It really was beautiful.

Renji took advantage of Byakuya’s silence to summon a Hell Butterfly. He needed to let Nanako know that she needed to stay on top of the Kuchiki in the guarding house. Kinjo had better have gotten that request in for help from the Fourth. He told her to have the patrols on the lookout for Kuchiki caravans, too, and explained the whole hostage situation in a nutshell. As he rattled off his commands, Renji noticed Byakuya giving him a funny look.

After sending off the butterfly, he asked, “What? Do I have something on my face?”

Byakuya shook his head. “A part of me will be sad to return to duty,” he said. “You’re very attractive in command.”

A bright blush bloomed across Renji’s cheeks. He was grateful for the arrival of the owner with her second tray of tea, so that he had a second to compose himself. Probably he should have found a way to make Byakuya's comment into a sexual joke--you know something about how if that was true, maybe he should get to top more often?--but the sincerity of Byakuya’s compliment had made it impossible. 

Once the shopkeeper had slid the garden door shut, Renji managed a weak, “Um, really?”

“Yes, really,” Byakuya said tasting the new tea. After a slight frown, he tried another sip. “This one is a bit better I suppose.” He let out a sigh. “Perhaps the third cup will be the charm.”

Renji didn’t know what to say to that. His mind was still focused on the whole ‘sexy as commanding’ thing. “First ‘soulmate,’ and now this? Are you feeling okay?”

Lips tightening, Byakuya asked: “Why do you always assume I am not myself when I do something nice? It’s insulting.”

Now Renji flushed with shame. “Oh, sorry, Taicho. I didn’t mean it that way, it’s just--”

Byakuya waved off his apology. “Just accept the compliment.”

“Right,” Renji nodded solemnly. “Thanks.”

Letting out a breath, Byakuya leaned forward and put a hand over Renji’s. His touch was cool, but firm. “You’ve been jumpy all morning. Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I didn’t mean to grab you like that,” Renji blurted, slipping out from under Byakuya’s light grasp. “I mean, this morning. It was instinct.”

“Renji, I know that,” Byakuya said, exasperated. “We’ve been sleeping together for over a year. I’m quite accustomed to your heightened wariness. Are you...?” Byakuya started, and then seemed to need to take a moment to restart. “That is, yesterday, in the stable. I find I am… regretting exposing my secret.”

“What? Why?”

Byakuya pursed his lips. Taking another long sip, he seemed to be trying to compose a careful response. But then, he just shook his head. “I don’t know, Renji, but I get the sense that most people aren’t usually happy to discover their lovers are sadists. And, you seem so… suddenly contrite. You’ve called me ‘taicho’ twice this morning. Are you…?” HIs lips went thin as though he was considering not finishing his thought, but then, he straightened up his posture and lifted his gaze to meet Renji’s eyes. “Are you afraid of me again?”

_Again_.

That was saying something about their relationship right there, wasn’t it? 

Renji picked up his teabowl and stared into the steaming depths. Was he? Was that why he’d jumped awake this morning when Byakuya had been reaching for him? When he’d found his fist wrapped tight around Byakuya’s wrist, his stomach had dropped a little. He wasn’t supposed to touch, and that’d been a full-on grab. Had he been worried about punishment?

“Maybe a little,” Renji admitted reluctantly. He didn’t want it to be true, but maybe subconsciously he’d retreated a little, back to the uncertain days, when he didn’t know what might set Byakuya off.

“That’s unfortunate,” Byakuya said, but his tone was mild--even concerned, caring. “We shall have to do something to remedy that. The walk to the graveside is a long one, but very private. We’ll have the day to talk--or not. Perhaps it will be good just to be in each other’s company for a while, with no Division business or clan war between us.”

That almost sounded like a proper date--or would, if Hisana weren’t the elephant in the room. Still, Renji found himself agreeing, “That does sound nice.”

“We will make it so,” Byakuya said. “Let us take full advantage of this day we have together. The graveside visit will be only a small part, I promise.”

Renji felt a stab of guilt hearing that. “Aw, c’mon. I don’t want you to shortchange Hisana on account of me.”

“Hisana has had my full attention for over fifty years,” Byakuya said. “Besides, I believe I explained you to her reincarnated Soul in the Human World. After having had that experience, I feel I have little left to say to an empty grave.”

Renji let out a dark chuckle; after all, Byakuya had a point. It wasn’t like they didn’t know for an absolute and certain fact that Hisana’s Soul had moved on. 

“But the deceased must be honored, even in the land of the dead,” Byakuya said, after a sober swallow of tea. “So, we shall go and pay our respects. But, we needn’t tarry very long.”

Renji nodded, but he said, “Yeah, but I meant what I said earlier. I’m happy to keep you company while you grieve. I’m sure you’ve got some of that to do.”

Byakuya’s mouth lifted briefly into a wan smile. “I do.”

The shopkeeper came out with their third bowl. She also set out a tray of thinly-sliced yōkan, a thick, sweet, jellied dessert made of red bean paste and agar. Renji hoped his stomach didn’t grumble too loudly. It must have made just enough noise because the teamonger gave him a tiny, sympathetic smile and asked, “Unless the gentlemen would like a full breakfast?”

Renji gave Byakuya a hopeful look, but Byakuya shook his head. “Unfortunately, we are on a time schedule. We’re expected back at the estate any moment.”

She bowed her way out.

“Damn,” Renji said, helping himself to one of the jelly slices. “I’m starving.”

“Perhaps we can pick you up something from a food truck on the way back, but we really should be underway. Eishirō will be in a right panic.”

Renji chuckled, “Aren’t you the one would said he would be like that no matter what?”

Byakuya’s eyebrows rose in surprise, then he let out a breath. “Ah, I suppose I did. Still, I would rather be on our way sooner rather than later.” Tasting the tea, Byakuya let out another little surprised sound. “This is quite good. Perhaps worth the Kuchiki seal, even.”

“Wow, really?” Renji tried it. There was a nutty undercurrent he could kind of detect, but mostly it tasted like tea. Setting it down, he said, “Well, if you say so.”

Byakuya’s eyes were closed and he seemed to be blissfully consuming his tea.

“Okay,” Renji smiled fondly. “It’s that good.”

“I’m quite certain that this is the tea Captain Hirako taunts Aizen with, if such a story is true,” Byakuya said. “Though why a person would risk such a thing, I don’t know.”

“You think it’s risky?” Renji asked, his stomach doing another little unhappy flip. “I mean, ain’t Aizen supposed to be all Kidōed up?”

Byakuya let his attention drift to where a bird wrestled noisily with nest building under the eaves. “I suppose,” he said, at last. “But Aizen’s spiritual pressure was always monstrous, even before his transformation. Now we don’t even know what he is. It seems presumptuous to assume we can contain what we do not fully understand.”

There was a chilling thought. Renji had gotten his ass beat by a bunch of Espada. He’d have no chance against Aizen. It might be time to double-up on training. 

Taking a moment to savor the last drop of tea, Byakuya set down his bowl with a sigh. “Shall we?”

Picking up the plate of sweets, Renji tipped it into his open mouth. He gobbled the remaining jelly slices in a single gulp. “Right,” he said. “Let’s go.”

#

Renji kept his eye out for food trucks, but he wasn’t surprised not to see any. The neighborhood around the Sixth mostly had a dine-in attitude. You could still find the occasional cart, but they just weren’t as populous as around other Divisions. Turns out, he needn’t’ve worried. Eishirō had stoked the embers in the irori and had two plates of okonomiyaki waiting for them upon their return.

Stretching his stocking feet towards the warmth, Renji held the plate up to his face and shoveled the eggy pancake into his mouth. “Mmm! Squid!” he said happily, around mouthfuls. “Yum!”

Byakuya ate slightly less eagerly, but Renji noticed he didn’t leave a speck behind on his plate either. “We should take our zanpakutō.” Setting his empty plate aside, Byakuya lifted his chin in the direction of where Senbonzakura and Zabimaru stood side-by-side near the entry into the main bedroom. “I’m not expecting trouble, but we do not yet have all the hostages safely under our roof.”

If Hirako’s father attacked Byakuya on his annual pilgrimage to Hisana’s grave, then he really was the lowest of the low. Still, Renji wouldn’t necessarily put it past him, and obviously Byakuya was thinking the same. He followed Byakuya’s gaze to the two zanpakutō. 

It was almost more odd that they’d left them behind this morning. Ever since Ichigo’s invasion of the Seireitei, Renji had gotten used to carrying Zabimaru everywhere again--like he used to in the Eleventh.

A polite knock on the door signalled that Eishirō had everything ready for their journey. A little expression flitted across Byakuya’s face. Sadness? He straightened his haori with a sigh. “Very well. We can delay no longer.”

Renji stood as Byakuya did. “You going to be okay?”

“With you beside me, how can I be otherwise?”

It was so damn hard not to hug this guy today.

#

Renji carried the picnic basket as they headed out. The sun was bright enough that Renji wished he’d had a pair of sunglasses. Byakuya set a casual, strolling pace though the Kuchiki cherry orchard. Judging from the buds, it would only be a matter of days before they bloomed. 

A small, gurgling stream cut through the orchard and Byakuya paused on the wooden bridge, looking over the edge at the water. “Having a Hanami celebration here would be acceptable.”

Renji wasn’t really sure if Byakuya had asked a question, but he answered it anyway. “Yeah, it would be amazing.” The trees continued on as far as Renji could see. Did they have an actual thousand for Senbonzakura? He’d believe it. “Like I said last night, if you opened it to the Division, you’d have plenty of volunteers to run security.”

“Would they not want to go to their own celebrations?” 

Renji shrugged. There were public parks inside the Seireitei where people went cherry blossom viewing, but nothing this majestic or private. Renji had a vague memory of a small grove tucked back somewhere in the Fifth’s Kidō practice range, but most of his memories of the Hanami were from the Eleventh and being bored while other Divisions emptied out. He didn’t really know where everyone went, but there were noble houses that opened their orchards, apparently. 

Kira used to bring people to his family’s estate. Renji went one year, but it was awkward hanging out with a bunch of healers as an Eleventh Division bruiser. Plus, Kira kept apologizing for how ‘humble’ and ‘small,’ it was. Now, seeing all the Kuchiki stuff, Renji understood why Kira said that, but at the time he’d been kind of put off.

A crane came around the bend, hunting through the reeds for frogs. Byakuya grasped Renji’s arm excitedly. Renji had never seen one like this, with a little red cap on its long-necked head. Most of the gangly bird was covered in white feathers, except it’s neck and tail, which were pitch black. They watched in silence for a few minutes before the big bird seemed to notice them and flapped off.

“A rare red-crowned crane,” Byakuya said. “A sign of luck.”

Renji patted Byakuya’s hand were it still curled around his forearm. “I guess it’s okay to hold the Hanami here, then, eh?”

“It would seem so,” Byakuya said. They started off again, threading a path through the pink-laced trees. 

As they continued along, they came across a singular, small plum tree, its white flowers already in bloom. Byakuya stopped them again, taking the picnic basket from Renji, he rummage through the contents until he found what he was looking for: a pair of shears. Carefully, Byakuya trimmed off a few long branches. 

Looking at how much smaller this tree was in the forest of stout cherry trees made Renji realize that Byakuya must have planted it, sometime after Hisana’s death. The yearly trimming seemed to have kept it small--despite fifty plus years of growth. Renji tried not to make a metaphorical connection to the purification ritual, but failed. Here was this symbol of Hisana among the giant cherry trees, being unintentionally kept small and weakened.

Renji found he had to look away.

He wasn’t used to having such profound sympathy for Hisana, but that purification was such bullshit. He should never have agreed to it. 

_We agreed_ , Zabimaru reminded him with a howl.

_Ssshould have had time to teach this old dog new tricks_ , the snake tail added. 

“Wait, all this time, that’s what you wanted out of the purification rite? You wanted more techniques like Rukia has?”

_Urahara’s magic was unexpectedly weak_ , the baboon king huffed. _Too easily broken._

_Hard to believe Kuchiki magic is stronger than Urahara's, but you think it damaged Hisana?_ Renji thought, turning to look at where Byakuya was finishing up his trimming. He had a big bouquet of plum blossoms tucked under his arm.

_Ssssuffering only sssstrengthens ussss._ The snake tail said in agreement. The baboon king added, _Most can not withstand it. There is only one demon of misfortune, and that is us. ___

____

____

Rukia seemed to have thrived under it, though. 

_Ice,_ Zabimaru noted. _Breaks and reforms all the time._

True enough, but Renji couldn’t help adding a petulant, “We just break.”

“Zabimaru is restless?” Byakuya asked. Coming up beside Renji, he handed him back the picnic basket. 

“Yeah, I guess, a little,” Renji started, but the lie felt funny in his stomach. Giving the plum tree a hard glare, he decided to go ahead and say: “We were just thinking about the purification rite.”

Before he could cover it, Byakuya looked… stricken. He sucked in a breath and then his lips went thin. As he turned away, his voice was a cold stone dropped in a deep well. “Yes. It may have killed Hisana.”

Renji scrambled to catch up with him, though he wasn’t sure what he was going to say when he got there. He hadn’t expected Byakuya to so readily admit that the purification rite could not have done Hisana’s frail health any good. The edge in Byakuya’s voice was surprising, too. “Oi, you’re not blaming yourself, are you?”

Byakuya’s lips stayed pressed together, his head held stiff and high.

He was. He was totally blaming himself.

“I don’t know how you could have known,” Renji said, falling into step beside Byakuya. Probably Byakuya didn’t want to talk about this, but letting him stew about it didn’t seem like such a good idea, either. Byakuya hadn’t wanted to be alone with his grief, he’d said so. Renji decided that meant Byakuya didn’t want to be alone with his self-blame, either. “Your servants go through it all the time, and most of them come out the other side without a hitch.”

“You’ve spoken to my staff about the purification rite?”

“In passing?” Renji shrugged. He had a vague memory of talking to the cook, Miki, about spiritual pressure. “When you were hungry all the time,” Renji scratched his chin. “I think Miki said something about how she was like that after the rite. Anyway, it was kind of Eishirō who brought up what it was for?”

At least that’s how Renji thought he remembered it. 

Whatever problem Byakuya had had with Renji talking to the servants seemed to dissipate with a long, drawn out breath. “It’s traditional. I have put very little thought into why we do the things we have always done.”

The cherry orchard thinned out and they passed into an open meadow. Tall grasses lined the path. The sun shined down, bringing up smells of warm earth.

“Exactly,” Renji said. “You can’t blame yourself for stuff people have been doing for thousands of years.”

Byakuya frowned at the bouquet of plum blossoms in his hands. “But, shouldn’t I? You would have me not treat you badly because of our class differences, yet people have done that for thousands of years, as well.” Byakuya voice was even, thoughtful. “Why should I not feel that I wronged both you and Hisana in this way, treating you as though you were something dirty that needed cleaning before it could enter the house?”

Fuck. Well, put it that way and Renji could see the point. 

“Apology accepted,” Renji said “But, it’s not like you forced me. That’s what Zabimaru and I were talking about. We had our reasons. Maybe Hisana had her own.”

Byakuya glanced out over the rolling meadow, shaking his head. “Hisana wanted to make me happy. She would have done anything for me.”

“Then that was her reason, and you ought to accept her gift.”

“It cost too much. For what it was, it wasn’t worth--”

Renji gave Byakuya’s shoulder a little cuff to cut him off. “Oi, that’s the part neither of you could have known. Anyway, didn’t your mama teach you better than to wonder at the cost of a gift?”

Byakuya was silent for several beats. Then: “Renji. You struck me.”

Renji sucked in a breath, but tried to act cool about it. “Well, you was bein’ stupid.”

A soft smile curled the edges of Byakuya’s mouth. “I see you’re over being afraid. Good.”

Renji let out a little relieved chuckle. They continued walking, the sun almost hot without the shade of the trees. In the distance, Renji could see a farmhouse, with its traditional thatched roof in a ‘praying hands’ construction. “Are we still on the estate grounds?”

Byakuya nodded absently, “Yes, though, eventually we will abut lands belonging to Ukitake’s Ugendō, as well as those in the Kyōraku holdings.”

Renji started to try to visualize how this all fit inside the map of the Seireitei, but gave up. At some point in the Eleventh, Renji had half-seriously decided that the reason Kenpachi was always getting lost was that the Seireitei expanded to fit the spiritual pressure around it. Maki-Maki could get from point A to point B, two minutes flat, no problem; Kenpachi would follow the same route and be gone for three and a half hours. 

The reverse seemed to be true in the Rukongai. Byakuya or any of the captains could get from the West Gate to the Seventy-Fourth District in one or two bursts of shunpō; Renji and Rukia had spent months working their way up from Inuzuri. It had seemed so vast to them, as to almost be unending. Meanwhile, patrols of shinigami zipped around like the distances were no big deal.

The part of Renji that was a country bumpkin at heart had decided magic was the answer. There was no convincing him otherwise.

“My forefathers donated some of the land that is now held by the Academy, did you know?” Byakuya said. 

Renji hadn’t, but he wasn’t entirely surprised. “You mean, if we keep going along here, we’d end up near Academy?”

Byakuya nodded. “We’d have to travel some distance, however. At this pace, it would take a week.”

Renji shook his head, bewildered: magic. But, if the lands were connected, he was curious about something. “So, your cousin Hirako could have stayed in property belonging to your estate the whole way from Academy?”

“No, not exactly,” Byakuya said, “Which is why I had us bring along our zanpakutō. We will be leaving the lands I directly control in a few hours. The family grave is at the very edge of what belongs to my personal estate. The clan head had always held the responsibility of maintaining the gravesite, but, while I own all of this, several Kuchiki families lease land from me that is adjoined to the gravesite, including some occupied by Hirako’s father.”

“Hirako’s dad doesn’t own his own property?” Renji was a little surprised to hear this. He wasn’t sure why, but he always assumed that each Kuchiki family had its own set of properties and businesses that were theirs.

“No,” Byakuya said. “Everything is leased from me.”

“Everything? Even the silver mines and the silk farms?”

“Everything.”

Shit, no wonder they were grouchy. “So this clan war is about rent? Like, they don’t want to have to pay their cousin for stuff they think of as their own? Is your rent too high or what? Could you solve this by cutting them a discount?”

Byakuya gave Renji a sour look. They were headed up a twisting path that wound up a rolling hill. Grasshoppers sunning themselves on the dirt path, leaped out of the way of their feet. “You’re thinking like a peasant, Renji.” At Renji’s glance, he lifted a hand, “No offense intended. But, my cousins are not ‘renters.’ I own the lands they occupy, but they are only obliged to pass along a yearly tithe. It is entirely up to them how much of a percentage they offer. I require and enforce no standard, it is only their honor that requires they pay. If Hirako’s father was miserly and wanted to hoard his profit, it is certainly within his rights to do so. He could grant me a single ken and no more.”

“So, it’s just greed,” Renji said, offering a hand to help Byakuya up. The path led them up a rocky hillside, using various boulders as natural stepping stones. “Hirako’s dad just wants the whole thing?”

“One presumes.”

“But I don’t get it,” Renji said as they continued up the incline. “If you don’t ask any hardships of your clan, what does he think he’s gonna do better?”

“It is possible that he feels that I don’t push our industries to produce more,” Byakuya mused, “To innovate, to expand our empire.”

They reached the top of the hill and found the path leading them into a dense bamboo forest. “Don’t you already corner the market on silks?”

“And weapons and silver and tea,” Byakuya said. “Yes. And it has long been my family’s policy to allow each industry’s head to be autonomous. I fund any research requested, approve all expansions--anything asked for is automatically granted, no matter the risk to the family’s fortune. My only caveat is that it be ethical and not interfere with the goals of the Gotei.”

Renji snorted, “There’s your problem, insisting on ethics in business practices.”

Byakuya glanced up at Renji. “Do you truly think that’s the issue, that such a requirement is too limiting?””

Renji shrugged, “Babe, I only know yakuza businessmen, so I gotta go with ‘yes’ here.”

They passed into a mottled darkness and the temperature seemed to drop. The bamboo made a soft clicking sound in the winds. Byakuya said, “It disturbs me how often you connect my business practices with those of the underworld.”

Renji almost said, ‘if the shoe fits,’ but decided better of it. 

They walked in silence for a long time, until Byakuya quietly said, “Kōga and Masama would have been better suited, honestly.”

For clan head? Renji looked over to see Byakuya frowning slightly. “I never heard anything about Masama’s husband. Was he a good guy?”

Byakuya blinked suddenly, almost as if Renji had slapped him. “No,” he said sharply. Then, a second later, added a less vehement. “He’s was… troublesome. My grandfather took a risk naming him heir--Kōga was low born, and--”

“Wait, wait, what? Are you telling me snooty Auntie Massey who is always telling me I’m a dirty dog married a guy from the Rukongai?”

“Not from the Rukongai, Renji, but not noble,” Byakuya said explained. “But, what you need to understand, Renji, is that Kōga betrayed us all. He’s imprisoned in stone, forever, for his crimes.”

“So, she hates me because she thinks I’m going to be the same?”

“She imagines worse from you as you’re even lower born. It doesn’t help that Rukia was convicted of a crime as well,” Byakuya pointed out, quietly. “And Hisana could not let the Rukongai go, she kept returning there, in search of Rukia. It made her sicker, and it made them suspicious… afraid she was still practicing her art.”

Art? He must mean they thought she was whoring around. When she’d married a prince? Were the Kuchiki stupid? “They thought Hisana would cat around on you? What did they think she was getting out of that?”

Byakuya’s jaw clenched and his shoulders straightened. “What they told me was that they believed it was her nature. That she returned to what she knew, because that was what she was.”

“Wow, your family is a bunch of dicks.”

Byakuya’s closed off expression softened at that. “Yes, Renji. That they are.”

**Author's Note:**

> Well, it might not seem like much, but that's actually a big installment from me. Hope you enjoyed it. Sorry for the wait!


End file.
